


Now You See Me

by Kindassunshine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-14 18:52:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3421715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kindassunshine/pseuds/Kindassunshine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set hours after Grindelwald's defeat in 1945. Now that everything is over Albus can't be sure what's left.</p>
<p>‘Finish it,’ he breathed, ‘I will not suffer this – end it, end me. Use it on me, the wand. It is destiny I think, Albus – your's and mine.’ Albus felt his throat close.<br/>‘It is not my destiny to end your life!’ he roared.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now You See Me

**Author's Note:**

> I think he still loved him, don't you?

Love never falleth away

Albus looked down at the wand in his hand – obsession, destiny and downfall all resting innocently in his palm. How could such a thing look so ordinary? The most powerful and most awful of Death’s Hallows; the Elder Wand, the Wand of Destiny, the Deathstick. He clenched his fist around the thin strip of wood. Deathstick – well not today and not ever again if he could help it. Albus closed his eyes feeling them burn.  
It was chilly in the entrance hall of Nurmengard, where he sat soot-blackened and bloody staring down blankly at his recently acquired wand. Rubble was tumbled all around him and there was a huge crack in the floor. The battle has cost him nearly everything. Gellert certainly had not lost his magical abilities along with his humanity.  
‘Herr Dumbledore,’ greeted a voice behind him. Albus looked up, pulling himself upright though his mouth didn’t seem to be working at that moment. The young wizard was beaky, slight and swallow, dark-haired with thick equally dark eyebrows. His hands were clenched tightly before him but when Albus stood he smiled and unspoken understanding passed between them; it was finally over.  
‘I thank you,’ he said voice tight with emotion, extending a hand. Dumbledore took it eyeing him beadily; if he was seventeen he’d eat his hat.  
‘You should go home,’ Albus told him sternly – years of being a professor settling over his shoulders like a cloak.  
‘Grindelwald killed my father,’ the young wizard muttered holding his eyes, ‘so… now he is avenged.’  
‘I will not see him executed,’ Albus said evenly, feeling he owed the truth to a son of Grindelwald’s victims. The young wizard nodded slowly.  
‘For a man like him death is nothing,’ he shrugged and Albus was gratified that he understood. The young wizard gave him a final bow and left him returning to the crowd of witches and wizards liberating Nurmengard.  
As Albus watched a group of men had now detached themselves from the throng. They trotted towards him; For the Greater Good carved in foot high letters was just visible over their heads. Surrounded by black stone and desolation they looked unnaturally clean. The man at the front was blond as Gellert and powerfully built, dwarfing the men directly behind him. Albus knew that this was the head minister in the foreign ministry.  
‘Herr Dumbledore,’ the Minster called, voice booming across the space, ‘and so here you are at last.’ The final word hung like smoke on the air between them; Albus clenched his jaw. ‘We are in debt to you all our lives,’ he beamed, slapping Albus manfully on the back as though were old friends, ‘tonight you stay under my roof and we shall breath the free air together!’ he declared with a deep bow then his smile slackened, he gave Albus an assessing look, ‘you seen him since he woke up? Crazed, wild… like an animal. What can we do with him? Where can we hold him?’  
‘Nurmengard will serve us as it did him,’ Albus answered stiffly; he knew what would come next, ‘the enchantments surrounding the fortress are second to none, I will add a few of my own naturally and will… monitor the situation.’  
‘So it will be,’ said the huge man gravely, ‘don’t think me bloodthirsty, Dumbledore, but you understand I would have preferred to be giving my people a corpse.’  
‘A corpse cannot tell us nothing,’ muttered a pallid man standing to their right, ‘we have not guessed at half his secrets yet – there are still families who have never recovered their dead.’ Several men nodded at this but more remained looking violent.  
‘I do understand your feelings,’ Albus explained, thinking it sounded lame even as the words came out of his mouth, ‘but you know my views.’  
‘Ah certainly there are practical reason for keeping him alive – for the time being, and as you say times and places for… nobility,’ the Minister sighed, spreading his hands hopelessly, ‘but look around Dumbledore, do you think that this is it?’ Before Albus could answer the man had bowed, politely taking his leave entourage scurrying after him.  
Albus sank back onto a piece of rubble, watching hollowly as another group of skeletal prisoners were led out of the main hall into the weak sunlight. He was trying to decide what degree of international offense it would cause to simply walk out of this place and keep on going until he was back in his office at Hogwarts.  
‘Herr Dumbledore?’ the speaker was yet another young wizard in scorched robes. He looked a little alarmed at his own daring in addressing Grindelwald’s vanquisher directly. Albus smiled at him encouragingly trying to look non-threating; he must have been close to the battle to be singed quite so badly. ‘Grindelwald calls for you, sir… he shouts… my commander asks you come – thinks it might calm him.’ Albus felt an odd swoop in his stomach.  
In reality, when they had come face to face again his fears had proved unfounded; the duel had been too fast and too terribly frantic for decades old recriminations. Grindelwald had barely said two words to him that weren’t screamed curses or obscenities. The young wizard was looking at him expectantly and he knew he could hardly refuse to face the man now, defeated and wandless. Albus pulled himself taller with a muttered ‘of course’.  
He followed deeper into Nurmengard, forcing himself not flinch from the signs of dreadful cruelty that had been inflicted on the inhabitants within. Dementors glided here and there, mostly in the deep shade of doorways that led to underground tunnels. Though the other wizard barely seemed to notice them, Albus could feel their coolness prickle his skin like late autumn air.  
They turned a corner into a windowless walkway and quite suddenly Albus could not bear to have the rotting creatures close. He thought of his brother’s grunted approval on the night before he’d left the country and spoke clearly into the dark: Expecto Patronum. The silver-white phoenix the size a swan with long trailing tail-feathers floated before them, filling the space ahead with warm white light as cloaked figures seemed to melt into the stone.  
Grindelwald could be heard a long time before they reached his cell. It sounded like he was trying to break through the walls by shear brute force, punctuated only by frenzied screams for Albus. They rounded another corner and found a hard-faced wizard waiting at the top of a narrow set of black stone stairs. At the sight of the patronus he gave Albus an unreadable look, something between contempt and confusion.  
‘You are Dumbledore,’ he informed Albus, who inclined his head, ‘his blood is hot for you,’ he added grimly eyes on the other’s face, ‘he shouts since he wakes – I say it is no good but…’ he gestured to the door that was now rattling so hard Albus thought the hinges might crack. Albus swallowed his throat suddenly extremely dry.  
‘Grindelwald,’ he grunted putting his hand on the door, as though he might be sensed through the wood. The pounding did not stop. Glancing around self-consciously, though this was no time for squeamishness, Albus raised his voice: ‘Grindelwald… Gellert… stop this, I am… I am here.’  
‘Albus,’ a ragged voice breathed, terrifyingly close to the door, ‘Albus…’ The roaring need to see him again stole over him before he could master the impulse: ‘open it.’ The hard-faced wizard frowned but stepped forward raising his wand. Thinking quickly, Albus withdrew the Elder wand and handed it to the young wizard that had fetched him.  
‘I won’t be needing it for the moment,’ he said calmly as the young wizard stared at him in awe. Albus surrendered the wand meekly – he did not want to be tempted.  
‘You want me to let you go in there without a wand?’ the hard-faced wizard growled glancing at the door.  
‘I will only speak to him,’ Albus returned quietly, ‘and I’m perfectly capable of defending myself,’ he added wryly when the hard-faced wizard continued to look sceptical. After a moment he shrugged then turned banging on the door gripping his own wand.  
‘Stand back from the door, bastard, or I will kill you,’ he barked. Light footsteps. The door opened and without hesitation Albus stepped inside. The cell was dark, almost completely black, what looked like an arrow-slit being the only source of light. Grindelwald had backed against the furthest wall; he was still dressed in the scarlet robes he had battled in. There was dry blood on his chest and neck, his knuckles and lip were split and there were raw welts on the face and arms. He was pale, curling hair wild but otherwise looked completely coherent. He lifted his chin.  
‘They are saying there will be a trial,’ he grunted, eyes fixed on Albus’ like he could read the truth written on his face.  
‘That is the usual course of things,’ Albus told him, ‘when one has committed a crime.’ Grindelwald’s eyes burned in the gloom, he took a stiff step forwards.  
‘Finish it,’ he breathed, ‘I will not suffer this – end it, end me. Use it on me, the wand. It is destiny I think, Albus – your's and mine.’ Albus felt his throat close.  
‘It is not my destiny to end your life!’ he roared. Grindelwald stilled as though shocked, like an animal that had scented blood on the wind. Albus glared at him, trying to claw back his self-control.  
‘The wand will never work for you,’ he murmured, looking down at his hands, ‘never work for you as it has for me – you know it, Albus,’ his eyes gleamed, ‘you know how it must pass from one wizard to another.’ Albus swallowed; he felt cold like Death had lain a hand on his shoulder. Grindelwald watched him, silent in the gloom. He was not as tall as Albus was but broader in the chest and shoulders lean but muscular. Albus squared his own shoulders.  
‘How can you bear to let them hang me?’ Gellert smirked, breaking the silence, ‘knowing I take that power with me into death?’ Albus felt his fingertips tingle and was glad of his foresight.  
‘I defeated you,’ he stated firmly; ‘the wand is mine.’ Grindelwald grinned at him, a wicked crescent moon, and shook his head.  
‘I live, I am not vanquished – Death, He is not satisfied so easily,’ he smirked, ‘He cries for my blood and you must yield it to him, Albus!’ he bellowed the last and Albus flinched back in spite of himself. Anger blazed in him.  
‘Never!’ he snarled, ‘you think I would destroy you on so slight a cause, you think I would let anyone?’  
‘The wand, Albus,’ Grindelwald muttered, creeping closer, ‘the Elder Wand! Think…’ Albus turned from him sharply, raising his fist to the door.  
‘I’ve killed men, Albus,’ he whispered, moving closer still, ‘killed men in their thousands, women too and children,’ Albus turned to glare at him. Grindelwald’s face was white, grinning like a skull; he looked quite insane now, ‘many children, children younger than your sister.’ Albus bowed his head; stomach contracting with disgust and for a moment was certain he would vomit.  
‘For your crimes you will stand trial,’ Albus told him icily, without look up, ‘and the people who suffered at your hands will decide your punishment – not me.’  
‘You have suffered.’  
‘My own weakness,’ Albus growled, pressing back against black stone. Grindelwald remained silent, their breathing the only sound in the dreadful space.  
‘I regret her, Albus. I regret her deeply, you must know that,’ Grindelwald murmured roughly. Albus bit down on his lip. A single yelping scream was echoing in his head making his chest constrict with agony.  
‘You regret what it cost you,’ he growled.  
‘You think I wanted the girl dead?’ Grindelwald snapped back, Albus could hear him pacing in frustration, ‘we could have brought her with us, it wouldn’t have mattered – I would have made her an empress, Albus, to please you.’ Albus closed his eyes, throat burning.  
‘And the others?’ he rumbled.  
‘Others?’  
‘Ariana was not the first,’ he addressed the floor, ‘or the last… do you regret them?’  
‘I thought you above all would understand,’ Grindelwald sounded bitterly disappointed, ‘it for the greater-’  
‘Don’t you dare!’ Albus roared, in his fury his head whipped up to shout directly into his face, ‘nothing justifies this! Don’t repeat my own stupidity back to me and think it a vindication!’  
‘But it is, Albus! It is!’ Grindelwald implored, ‘I have never killed unnecessarily – I temper myself as always-’  
‘You were never temperate,’ Albus exhaled. Grindelwald gave him a rueful smile.  
‘I lacked your wisdom,’ he murmured, Albus glared at him but did not speak. Grindelwald sighed deeply moving to sit on the flat boards that formed the bed. ‘Even now you are the only one… we could have held this world in the palm of our hands… made it perfect.’  
‘We have very different ideas of perfection,’ Albus muttered at last. Grindelwald gave a hollow laugh, head bowed as though in prayer. Albus could see still the wild, laughing boy burning in him. Could see him in the curve of his mouth, the tilt of his pale brows, the sharp angle of his jaw. Albus looked away from him quickly; the fire that had brought them together was embers now. Grindelwald was watching at him again.  
‘You look different,’ he observed, eyes running over him like a physical force, ‘you must be happy, you weren’t happy when I knew you.’  
‘Teaching suits me,’ Albus agreed, smoothing charred aqua robes self-consciously.  
‘You found a woman?’ Grindelwald murmured. Albus’ left hand twitched involuntarily and the other man smiled, ‘no, can’t say I’m surprised... disassembly was never your style.’ Albus stared down the challenge in his eyes. Suddenly Grindelwald’s eyes seemed to lighten, as stunned expression spread across his face.  
‘That’s it, is it? That’s why you will not end this as you should!’ he cried. Albus stared at him blankly, but Grindelwald was laughing again. It was a terrible sobbing laugh that made his heart ache. Grindelwald stood, raising his face to the other’s. They looked at one another for a long moment.  
‘You will kill me, Albus,’ Grindelwald spoke slowly but he could barely hear him over the blood rushing in his ears, ‘if you cared for me, you will show me mercy now – you will not damn me to this torment and humiliation. To suffer my life to be wasted and to know every day I live that it is wasted!’ Albus set his jaw, feeling as though his heart would rip. He knew what it was to look towards the horizon and see nothing.  
‘I cannot,’ he choked out, ‘it would not be mercy – and it would not be justice.’ Grindelwald’s eyes seemed to burn at him out of the dark.  
‘To end the life of a killer is justice, Albus,’ he muttered stepping close. Albus shook his head throat constricting as he pushed him back but Grindelwald would not release him. He grabbed him by the wrist pulling back his sleeves then yanking his robes open, checking his pockets and slipping a hand into his waistband. Albus did not resist him, repeating over and over: ‘I don’t have it, Gellert, I don’t have it.’ Grindelwald gave an impotent roar, thrusting Albus away from him. He felt his skull crack against stone, sending a wave of burning nausea over him. Grindelwald rounded on him gripping him by a fistful of his robes. Albus turned his face away swallowing bile. Grindelwald gripped his chin.  
‘Release me,’ Albus growled, pulling his chin free of strong fingers. Grindelwald pressed harder into him; trapping him with his own body, their bones grating through skin.  
‘There was a time when you desired my touch,’ he murmured. Albus could feel his hot, mad breath on his neck. He snarled but Grindelwald stuck his mouth over his. Albus spluttered with fury and the other took the opportunity to force a burning tongue deep into his mouth. They kissed roughly, Albus trying and failing to struggle loose. Grindelwald smelled smoky, metallic like blood but there was a richer, muskier note that made him shudder. He could remember the scent of his skin quite clearly. As clearly as he could remember the roughness of crushed corn against his back as two boys looked up into a cloudless summer sky. And for a moment he yielded.  
Grindelwald hummed in approval sinking into him. Albus groaned. Grindelwald pulled back from him a little but not enough to allow Albus to escape. He pecked his mouth gently, eyelids low, then wet his lips. Albus shied him as he kissed his jaw then licked down over his throat. Albus groaned head throbbing as Grindelwald pulled his torn robes back a little, exposing more skin. Albus hissed, pulling in his loosened grasp. Grindelwald kissed his mouth again, hushing softly as he pulled back. Albus stared at him but could only see messy curls. Grindelwald’s head was bowed considering the erection pushing into his stomach. Albus shifted flushing, embarrassed by such an obvious sign of weakness.  
Grindelwald flicked his eyes up and Albus could see his own fire reflected in them. He kissed him hard on the mouth again then between his collar bones, the centre of his chest, the base of his rib cage, the depression of his navel and over his hip bone. Albus chewed his lower lip; shame silencing him more effectively than any spell. The kneeling man nuzzled him, running a slick tongue over the tender skin of his penis. His kissed his thighs and cock, sucking and licking with scorching tongue. Albus grit his teeth knees buckling. Grindelwald held him around the waist, letting his cock slide into his throat as he tipped his head up. He gave a muffled groan as Albus dug his fingertips into his shoulders.  
Sensation was overtaking him, shattering his thoughts like ashes, as his inner fire blazed. He could barely breathe; his pleasure cresting almost to a pinnacle before rushing back again, rolling through him like a rip tide. Grindelwald mumbled gripping Albus’ hand his as it sank into his hair. In that moment his orgasm peaked; fiend fire burning and cursing him from inside out. He moaned his awareness blurred at the edges as he fought to stay on his feet.  
For a moment Grindelwald remained close, tongue caressing gently his oversensitive skin. Dread crept into before the final aftershocks had fully left him. Grindelwald straightened, coughing once as though to clear his throat and stalked over to the chink of light; leaving Albus to crumple against the black stone of the floor.  
‘Leave,’ Grindelwald grunted after a short silence. Albus pulled himself upright, tidying his hair and robes to distract himself from the sickening ache in his chest. He glanced at slumped shoulders of the silhouette once but did not speak.  
‘That was cruel, Gellert,’ he muttered standing before the closed door, fist raised to knock. For a moment he though there would be no answer but then a cold murmur: ‘Goodbye, Albus.’  
He rapped sharply on the cell door.


End file.
